


Deeper Than The Truth

by Green



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be much easier if the boy didn't know. If he couldn't look at him and read all his secrets at a glance. Peter can fool everyone, anyone, but not him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deeper Than The Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mysenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/gifts).



> Mysenia posted about the Ruelle song 'War of Hearts' on Tumblr, and I wrote this. Not beta'd.

He doesn't want to admit he's waiting. That he's too consumed with thoughts of Stiles to sleep even if he wasn't waiting.

Denial is stupid, he knows. He's too self-aware to lie to himself the way he wants. He may lie to others, or at least twist every truth to his own ends, but he has always been honest with himself. About what he wants, what he needs. 

Who he loves.

He's not only tried to fight it, but he's actually fought it. The feelings, the implications. The desire. The need he feels, the craving so deep it's in the marrow of his bones. There's no digging it out, now. Stiles slowly, slowly sank in through Peter's skin without any indication.

It would be much easier if the boy didn't know. If he couldn't look at him and read all his secrets at a glance. Peter can fool everyone, anyone, but not him. 

It's part of why he can't help how he feels, because Stiles is too smart, too clever, sees too much. Because Stiles sees all of him and still lets him close. Still visits him in the middle of the night to crawl into his bed as if it's safe there. He lets Peter touch. Kiss.

He kisses back, sometimes, when whatever brought him into the sphere of Peter's darkness doesn't consume him so utterly he's almost unresponsive.

That's another thing that's caught Peter by surprise. Stiles could go to anyone. He could share his nightmares and fears with someone more trustworthy. Someone safer. Stiles laughed when Peter told him that one night. Laughed. Peter watched some of his mood slough off him as his eyes brightened. Stiles didn't tell him why it was so funny, or why he chooses Peter.

But he did kiss him. And Peter was too distracted by the scent of Stiles's skin and the heat of his breath against Peter's own mouth to ask again that night.

He's tried to get an answer out of Stiles, but even when there are words of supposed explanation, they make no sense to Peter. Stiles thinks no one else would understand, _could_ understand. But Peter doesn't, either. If he did, Stiles's visits wouldn't be such a mystery.

He never knows when Stiles is coming. So he lies awake, thinking about the clear amber of his eyes, the bitter twist of a mouth that tastes so sweet. A tongue that can lash his soul with its sharpness, yet lick along Peter's bottom lip with a gentleness Peter never knew he craved.

He lies awake with picture rolling after picture, real and imagined, playing themselves one after the other in his mind. He doesn't know what will happen if Stiles ever wants to take it beyond the holding and the kissing. The first kiss was such a surprise it stunned Peter speechless. But he's never asked for more from Stiles. For once in his life, he's unable to push for the outcome he wants.

If he pushes too far, he might push Stiles away altogether.

He can dream, though. He can close his eyes and let his desire fill him, can roll over to bury his face in the pillow Stiles uses. Stiles touches him in different places. His forearms, the one thick vein that runs along and down to his hand. He touches it himself, now, trying to recreate the feel of Stiles's fingertips. 

It's never the same, of course. 

Not until Stiles opens the door (he made his own key when Peter wasn't paying attention) and walks over to the bed. He puts a hand on the back of Peter's neck and Peter shudders with something deeper than pleasure. A need no longer denied. 

"Were you waiting for me?" Stiles asks. Quiet words, but full of knowing. He doesn't need to ask, Peter thinks. He already knows.


End file.
